


Babylon

by twistedrunes



Series: George [15]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Bad Sex, F/M, Gen, Other, Prostitution, Smut, Tea, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 16:41:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16998714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedrunes/pseuds/twistedrunes
Summary: “Who’s that girl?” You ask, ignoring Arthur’s suggestion, pointing down into the crowd. Both John and Arthur follow your finger and shrug. “The one at the end of the bar, talking to the guy alone.” You clarify. Again they shrug.“What’s up?” Arthur asks.“I don’t know, just a feeling.” You say trying to work out why she’s come to your attention.“Your bloody nose for trouble,” Arthur grumbles.





	Babylon

Polly leans across the table fixing you and then Tommy in her steely gaze. “You two need to dance.” She hisses. “Its tradition and I’ll not have those snobs,” she jerks her head in the direction of Daisy’s family “looking down on Finn thinking his family don’t know how to behave at a formal event.”  

You look at Polly curiously, utterly unaware of this or any other wedding-related custom. “I didn’t know. I’ve never been to a wedding.” You say apologetically.

Polly pats your hand sympathetically “Sorry love. Bridesmaid and best man dance together for the third dance. It’s a tradition.” She turns her attention back to Tommy “This one knows that, and as usual he doesn’t think the rules apply to him. Do not embarrass your brother, Thomas.”

Tommy holds his hands up in a gesture of attrition and pushes his chair back. “Miss Hunter.” He says as he takes your hand and leads you onto the dance floor. Daisy nudges Finn, and the pair of them smile at you happily. You smile back giving them a little wave. They look deliriously happy. Tommy places his hand in the middle of your back and takes your hand in his.

You rest your free hand on his shoulder. You count softly under your breath trying to remember where to put your feet. Your body is tense trying to maintain correct posture. You are acutely aware that the room is watching you.

Tommy moves his head a little, so his lips are on your ear, you can feel his smile “Are you counting?” he asks, his voice mirroring the smile you can feel.

You slap your hand lightly against his shoulder. “Fuck off.”

You feel the gentle chuckle more than hear it, “Tut, tut. Manners.” He chastises you. “Don’t want to make a poor impression on our future customers do you?”

You raise your voice slightly, but still, at a level only Tommy will hear “One, two, three. One, two, three.” You say making it clear you are ignoring him.

“You need to relax,” Tommy instructs, his thumb rubbing slowly against your spine. The movement so slight you’re sure not another person in the room is aware of it. “Just breathe.”

Your eyes close as you inhale deeply, nearly drowning in the smell of him. Whiskey and tobacco. You sigh with the comfort it brings.

“Better?” Tommy asks. You nod, your temple grazing his jaw. You feel Tommy’s cheek press against your hair. “It’s nice to see you in a dress.” Tommy recommences his teasing again.

“Well, Daisy did threaten to shoot me if I wore pants.“ You joke “You look nice too.” You say rubbing your hand over the beautiful material of his suit.

“I’m wearing your gun,” Tommy replies

“That’s nice.” You reply slightly confused.

“It matches my tie clip.” He says proudly.

You pull your head back to look at him. He nods,  his face like stone, not smiling. A wink, so quick you nearly miss it and a cheeky glint in his eye the only hint that he’s playing with you. You drop your head chuckling.

“Shh.” Tommy hushes you, his hand rising to the back of your head and pushing your face against his shoulder, in an attempt to muffle your giggles.

You bite your lip to contain your laughter as you look back up at Tommy. Your finger pressing the clip lightly. “Well, it was one of my primary considerations when I was making it. A special occasion gun.” You tease, eyebrow cocked.

 

The song finishes, and you feel Tommy’s posture change, stiffening as he looks behind you. Simultaneously you feel a tap on your shoulder. “May I have the next dance?” Eddie asks from behind you.

Tommy’s eyes flit to yours, looking for your consent. You nod and smile. Tommy nods and standing back spins you to Eddie. You laugh at Tommy as you turn away.

Eddie corrects your posture before falling in with the other dancers. Eddie pulls you closer “Fuck you look amazing.” He groans. Hand sliding down your back and brushing against your ass.

“Posture.” You remind him, mocking his posh accent.

Eddie’s hand slides back over your ass, stopping in the small of your back, pushing you against him. He grunts. You can feel his hardening cock press into your abdomen. You twist your torso, rubbing against him. Eddie lowers his mouth to your ear “Meet me.” He demands, his voice husky with desire.

 

Slipping from the hall, you move quickly towards the room Eddie had told you to meet him in. Your breath catches and your heart races, as you run on your toes. Trying to move undetected. Suddenly hands grab your waist and pull you into a room, closing the door behind you. You squeal until Eddie’s hand covers your mouth.

Trapping you between himself and the door Eddie kisses you hard, tongue filling your mouth. You return his kiss, fingers running up into his hair. Eddie’s hands possessing your breasts and ass, squeezing and pulling roughly. His mouth moving to your neck, he kisses, licks and nibbles causing you to arch your back and grasp at his shoulders. He grabs your ass and lifts you up the door, bringing your faces closer together.

Your mouths meet again, and you kiss passionately. Your hands fall to your thighs and yank your dress up to your hips, freeing your legs to wrap around Eddie’s waist and pressing his throbbing length against you. You rock against him, desire growing with each bump and grind. Your body aches to be filled. Your fingers work deftly, undoing his belt and tugging the fastenings on his pants. He thrusts against you, causing his pants to drop around his ankles. You hand travels lower, grasping at his cock. You both gasp at the contact. You run your hand along his length, pulling it from his boxers, reaching the head, you sigh as it rubs against your thigh. Moaning as it glides up to press against your entrance. The thin fabric of your panties the only thing separating you.

Eddie repositions you, using only one arm to hold you up while the other reaches up between your legs. Eddie’s fingers wrench the material of your panties aside as he thrusts into you. Your hands fly to his face, and you kiss him, slowly pushing your tongue into his mouth as you try to adjust to him. Eddie thrusts again, this time burying himself in you. You gasp, wiggling and squirming to accommodate him.  

“Fuck” Eddie grunts, his hand returning to your ass squeezing it hard. He begins thrusting into you. Long hungry strokes filling you again and again. The door holding you firmly in place as he pounds you. Eddie’s breathing becomes shallow. You roll your hips in an attempt to increase your pleasure. Eddie’s hands pull you against him, meeting his thrusts. Cussing as he approaches his climax.

Your fingers stroke over his neck as you whisper in his ear, encouraging him to slow down as your own pleasure increases. Suddenly Eddie spasms and groans into your throat “Fuck.” He groans deeply.

He’s cum you realise.  He pulls his cock from you.

“Eddie, please I’m nearly there.” You mumble into his neck, fingers entwining in his as you try to move his fingers to your core, desperate for some form of release.

Eddie pulls his hand away and all but drops you to the floor. Immediately ducking down to pull his boxers and pants back up. Tucking his cum smeared cock into his pants before reaching around you for the door. “Get yourself cleaned up and wait five minutes before coming back.” He instructs over his shoulder as he disappears down the corridor.

 

Embarrassed and frustrated you return to the hall. Spotting Polly, you make your way over to her. “I’m going to head home.” You say

Polly regards you critically “Something wrong?” She asks

“No.” You lie “I just have an early start in the morning.” You look around the room. “Where’s Tommy?”

Polly tucks a piece of hair behind your ear “He disappeared about the same time as you.” She says eyebrow arching.

You snort “Not likely Polly. You know Tommy, he’s probably found himself some Duchess or something.”

“Mm. So it was Eddie then.” She says lighting a cigarette.

“Yeah.” You reply blushing and looking at the floor.

“Good. You deserve a good time.” Polly nods “So you going to your place or his?” She asks cheekily. “Just in case we need you for any business of course.”

“Neither.” You shake your head

Polly turns and takes your face in her hand, eyes boring into yours. Her face darkening as she reads the disappointment and embarrassment in your eyes “Fucker.” She concludes “You want me to shoot him?” She asks

You grin chuckling softly “Nah, he's not worth it.” You sigh “Fuck, I was stupid, I thought he actually liked me.”

Polly’s eyes flash and she takes a drag on her cigarette. “I should definitely shoot him.” She mutters.

“Thanks, Pol. But trust me he’d be a waste of a good bullet.”

Polly wraps her arm around your waist “Shame. Alright then, let’s get drunk and make some trouble.”

You smirk, shaking your head and peck her cheek “Night Pol.”  

\-------------------

You walk along the landing overlooking the entrance and bar area of Alea Manor. It’s a sea of people. You had been open for thirty-five days and business was booming. To say the venture was an overwhelming success was an understatement. You had been at capacity since opening night. The only entry requirement of the Manor was money. If you had it, you were welcome. As a result, your clientele was diverse, from low-level nobility, through Americans rich from the oil fields, actual Royalty, you had organised a very private room for a particular Prince and his companions just last week, industrialists, bankers and other criminals and gangsters.

It amazed you how much the supposed upper classes wanted to be seen with and by known criminals. To flirt with danger as it were. There was even an incredibly dedicated group of women who were determined to make it with a Peaky Blinder, or rather with every Peaky Blinder, the higher up the organisation, the better. It had gotten so bad that you had to institute a written rule that there was to be no fucking on the premises as you were forever busting boys in cupboards, cellars, the facilities and even on your own desk having their brains fucked out.

But Tommy was the prize they all wanted when he visited it was truly amazing to behold. Tommy had only visited twice since you opened and you had just about been able to track Tommy’s progress through the building by the sound of panties dropping to the floor. Surprisingly, to you at least, on both occasions he had come in, seen you and the family and promptly left. Whether he had organised to see any of the ladies off the property was something you didn’t bother thinking about.

It was still early, only five in the evening, but you spy Arthur at the bar, surrounded by a gaggle of beautiful women. You motion for him to come up, pointing to John as well. Arthur manages to extricate himself and smacks John on the back of the head on his way through the bar. John also excuses himself from a crowd of women, and soon the two are standing next to you.

“You two will get me fucking killed.” You growl at them, regretting your decision to help all the Shelby ladies improve their shooting. Turning your back on the throng below, leaning against the bannister, you close your eyes and rub your hand against your forehead.

“Weren’t nothing,” John says defensively.

“Really?” You mock “Shall I invite Esme down for the evening then shall I?” You turn to Arthur “Linda?” Both look slightly bashful. “Seriously, how can I expect the others do their fucking jobs and not be actually fucking if every time I turn my back when you two are drowning in women?” You turn back to the floor gesturing over it to make your point.

“Sorry, love,” Arthur says placing a hand on your shoulder. “It’s just talking. Yeah?”

John copies his brother, placing his hand on your other shoulder “See?”

You roll your eyes. “Just keep it in ya fucking pants, please. I have to look both your wives in the eye.” Both men nod. Satisfied you move on “So what else is happening?” You ask looking around the room again.

“Not much. Just rich folks handing over their money.” Arthur says, clapping his hands and rubbing them together happily.

“Any trouble at the tables?” You ask smiling at his enthusiasm.

“Nah.” John chips in “Just a few cockheads who overestimate their abilities and get sore when they lose. But they usually calm down pretty quickly once one of us points out the error in their thinking.” He grins cheekily.  

“Good.” You rub your fingers over the bridge of your nose.

“You okay?” John asks, his voice actually concerned.

“Yeah. Just tired. A bit of a headache.” You reply.

Arthur takes a small blue vial out of his pocket and offers it to you. “Helps.” He says simply.

You shake your head “No, thanks.”

Arthur shrugs and puts the vial back in his pocket. “Why don’t you have an early night then? Go home, get some sleep. We can look after the place.”

“Who’s that girl?” You ask, ignoring Arthur’s suggestion, pointing down into the crowd. Both John and Arthur follow your finger and shrug. “The one at the end of the bar, talking to the guy alone.” You clarify. Again they shrug.

“What’s up?” Arthur asks.

“I don’t know, just a feeling.” You say trying to work out why she’s come to your attention.

“Your bloody nose for trouble,” Arthur grumbles.

“We’ll keep an eye on her,” John says patting his brother on the back. 

 

You look at the page of figures in front of you, numbers swimming making it harder than usual for you to understand. You rest your head on the cold surface of the desk.

“Anna?” Daisy asks, tapping tentatively on your open office door.

You lift your head and rub your hand over your eyes. “Yeah, love?”

“Um,” She begins, still hesitant in her new role as your secretary. “I’ve sorted the accounts for Polly, and there’s some paperwork for Tommy to sign.” She says putting the two folders on your desk.

“Thanks.” You say adding them to the pile of papers for Tommy. You glance up at the clock on the wall. Seven thirty. “All right, you go find that husband of yours and get home and get on with whatever newly-weds do in their spare time.” You grin at Daisy’s guilty blush.

“Thanks, Anna. I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t forget you have the executive meeting tomorrow.”

“Fuck.” You had forgotten.

“Are you sure you want me to go?” Daisy asks sweetly.

“Yes.” You nod wearily. “Go home. I’ll see you in the morning.” You pick up the pieces of paper again.

 

“She’s a whore,” John says appearing in your doorway.

“What?” You ask putting down the same page of numbers you had been looking at for the past hour.

“The girl. The one you told us to watch. She’s a whore. You want me to run her off?” He asks.

You screw your eyes up and rub your fingers over your temples. “No.” You say finally. “I want to talk to her.” You stand up. “Where’s she fucking ‘em?”

“Cars mostly by the look of it.” He answers. “She’s with someone now. Arthur’s keeping an eye on it.”

“Right. When she’s finished, she’ll probably talk to her pimp. Get one of the boys to watch him, tell ‘em to keep an eye out for any other girls talking to him. Then I want you to get one of our boys to pretend to engage her services, and bring her up here. The long way through the kitchens so they aren’t seen. You and Arthur come back here once the girl is upstairs.”

“Done.” John grins, flicking his matchstick from one side of his mouth to the other.

 

“So, who do you work for?” You ask the young woman sitting across from you.

“No one.” She glares at you, desperately trying to look tough. Her eyes flitting nervously from John to Arthur and back again. You recognise the panic behind her eyes.

“Don’t worry about them,” you say firmly. “Just answer my questions, and everything will be fine.” You watch her, she’s obviously terrified. You speak to the brothers without looking at them, “John, Arthur can you get this young lady something to eat from the kitchen, something hot and some tea?”

“Right,” Arthur says after a moment’s hesitation.  He ushers John out the door.

“Would you like something to drink while we wait? Whiskey? Rum?” You offer, stepping over to the small liquor cabinet in your office. The young woman shakes her head. You pour yourself a whiskey and move to her side of the desk, leaning back against it as you look down on her. “You know,” you say swirling your drink in your glass “I was whored out by some men my father owed money to.” The young woman looks up at you, eyes wide. “Really.” You assure her. You stand and look out the windows of your office. You had deliberately built your office on the corner of the landing so you could look out over the foyer watching the comings and goings of the Manor.

“Do you still do it now?” She asks timidly.

“No.” You said firmly “Do you want to know why?” You ask not turning to look at her.

“Yes.” She says, barely audible.

“I shot them, him and my father, and ran away.” You turn back toward her. She looks down at her lap, hands tightly clenched together. “And now I work here.” You continue “I have my own money, my own house, a car and I don’t have to fuck anyone I don’t want to.”

“I could never do that.” She whispers.

You drop down into a squat in front of her, looking up into her face. “You don’t have to. All I want to know is do you want to be doing what you’re doing?”

Tears well in her eyes and her chin wobbles. She shakes her head not being able to speak.

You place your hand on her knee gently “Then you never have to do it again.”

She looks up at you, head shaking and hands trembling in her lap “But he’ll kill me.”

“No.” You say firmly. “He won’t. I will protect you. He will never hurt you again. Do you believe me?”

“Yes.” She nods

“Good. My name’s Anna, what’s yours?”

“Margaret. But my friends used to call me Peggie.”

“Right then Peggie. Let’s get this sorted.”

 

“This is all of them,” Arthur says delivering the fourth girl to the kitchens.

“Thanks, Arthur.” You say to him “The pimp is in the cellar?”

“Fuckin’ right he is,” Arthur says gruffly.

“Ladies. As of this minute, your pimp is officially out of business.  You don’t work for him anymore.” You watch the women as they sit in front of you nervously.

Peggy turns to her colleagues “Anna says James won’t be able to hurt us anymore.”

You nod. “That’s right. You won’t ever have to worry about James again.”

“But how will I feed my baby?” One of the women asks, voice tight.

“You can come and work for me.” You say. “I need waitresses, counters, dealers and barmaids. You will keep all of your pay.” You look at each of the women’s faces waiting for them to comprehend. You notice they still seem hesitant “If you still want to whore that’s fine. I’ll send you to a friend of my in Camden Town. She looks after her girls, and they all make good money. It’s a good clean establishment.” You look at the group again “You don’t need to make any decisions tonight. I want you to think about it. The chef here will give you something to eat and then Isaiah here will take you to where you are going to stay tonight. Just to be sure you will be safe. You can pick up anyone or anything you need to on the way.”

John enters the room. You nod at him, and he hands each girl a bundle of notes. “Your pay for this evening. James has very kindly agreed it should be yours.” You watch the girls faces fill with awe when they realise how much money they are holding. You turn to leave.

“Thank you, Anna,” Peggie says. The others all following with their own thanks.

“No need to thank me.” You say, unable to stop the grin on your face as you close the door behind you.

\---------------

Sighing you take the whiskey decanter and two glasses and open the front door. You walk across the road to the car parked across from your house.

“You want a drink Tommy?” you ask, holding up the decanter and glasses.

“How did you know it was me?” He asks crossly.

“You smoke more than a factory chimney Tommy. I could see you.” Tommy shrugs. “You want to come in? Or do you want to drink out here?” You ask.

“I’ll come in.”

“Come on.” You lead Tommy inside and fill the glasses while he takes off his coat and cap. You pull the sole lounge chair into the kitchen and settle yourself on the solitary kitchen chair. “Why are you here Tommy? Its five am.” 

“Couldn’t sleep.” He says.

“and?”

“I was just checking you got home safely.”

“I’m here, safe.” You say “Except for the nutter waiting on my doorstep.”

Tommy ignores your jibe “Are you sleeping?”

“A bit.” You reply. Tommy leans in closely examining your face. “We’re busy.” You say tersely, looking away.

You stand, removing yourself from his interrogating stare, taking your whiskey with you. “I normally have breakfast now, before I go to bed, you want something?”

“Tea,” Tommy says leaning back in the chair.

“Okay.” You put the kettle on the range and a pan for the eggs. “You sure you don’t want some eggs? Arthur gave them to me.” You offer.

Tommy shakes his head. “How’s business?” He asks.

“Good. Busy. We discovered a pimp running girls on the property tonight.” You say conversationally.

“What did you do?

“Scared the pimp off, offered the girls jobs.”

“We have whores working for us?” Tommy asks voice as toneless as always, giving nothing away of what he thought.

“No. Not anymore. I’ll employ them as waitresses, dealers, whatever.” You wave your hand.

“Why?”

“Because they didn’t want to be whores.” You reply turning your attention back to the frypan and your eggs and toast.

“So that’s your thing now rescuing whores?”

You roll your eyes at the wall before turning to Tommy. “No, but we need staff, and they need jobs, and I know they will turn up and be good workers.”

“Hmm.” Tommy grunts. You’re not sure if it’s agreement or annoyance.

 

You take the teapot and two cups to the table setting them in front of him. He picks up the pot and pours. You return to the frypan “Sure you don’t want any?” You ask tipping the pan towards him so he can see.

A soft smile crosses his face, “Bread in dripping?” He asks

“With egg, we’re posh now.” You say with a wink.

“You have enough?” He asks, his gaze travelling quickly over your body.

“Yeah.” You stand aside and indicate the nearly full loaf of bread and bowl full of eggs “There’s enough.

“Thanks,” Tommy says, and you pile the contents of the pan onto the plate and put it in front of him. He hands you your tea, and you take it with you back to the stove. He eats in silence while you prepare your own.

“Good.” He says pointing at the plate with his fork when you sit down.

“Mm.” You agree, taking your first bite. You chew slowly savouring the flavour. “Although nothing will ever taste as good as the eggs and toast Polly made for me the first morning at her place.” You say wistfully.

“How long had it been since you’d eaten?” Tommy asks, pausing to take a mouthful of tea. “Polly says you looked a bit underfed.”  

“I’d eaten a pheasant the day before. It wasn’t that I was that hungry, I mean I was hungry, but,” You shake your head, annoyed you weren’t explaining yourself very well. You take a breath before starting again. “It was the first time someone had made me a meal since my mum died.” You admit. Your eyes close as you remember.

“How old were you?” Tommy asks.

“Four, Five.” You shrug. “My father never kept track of birthdays, so I’m not sure. Michael made up my date of birth on my employment paperwork.” You admit bashfully. “I was probably not much older than Charlie was when Grace died.” You conclude.

Tommy nods, using the last piece of toast to mop up the remaining egg yolk. Pushing the plate away he picks up his tea and leans back in the chair. Finishing your own meal, you collect the plates and carry them to the sink. You wash them quickly, stacking them on the sideboard to air dry and turn to get Tommy’s teacup.

He’s asleep in the chair, head resting against the winged side. You take his cup and wash it. Before returning to unlace his shoes, sliding them off carefully and placing them next to the chair. Finally, you pop his collar and set it on the kitchen table. You empty the remainder of his whiskey and yours into your teacup.

 

“Morning Mary,” You say when she answers the phone “Sorry to disturb you so early.” You apologise.

“No, bother dear. You after Mister Shelby?” 

“No. I just wanted to let you know Tommy is here. He’s fallen asleep in my kitchen. So you don’t worry about him.”

“He’s not been sleeping well since you left,” 

“He looks tired.” You agree

“You want me to send someone to come fetch him?” 

“No, we should probably let him sleep while he can.”

“Alright, Miss. Thank you for letting me know.” She pauses for a second “You should come visit soon, Charlie misses you.”

“Yes, Mary.” You can’t help but smile. She had chastised you about the same thing last week when you arrived at nine pm for your weekly five pm meeting with Tommy.  “I’ll make sure I get there early enough to see him next week when I come down.”

 


End file.
